


The Godsister

by MischaPetrovna



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Jon Snow and the Starks Are Not Related, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Mildly Dubious Consent, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Sleepwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25155733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischaPetrovna/pseuds/MischaPetrovna
Summary: Jon was raised alongside his Godfather Ned's children since he was seven years old, because his parents perished in a plane crash. He grew really close to his siblings, to Arya in particular, even through adulthood. He eventually returned to his ancestral estate when he came of age, but he always remained close to the Stark family.He was working on a mission for the special task forces team as the squad commander when he was betrayed in house--narrowly escaping death. Arya's voice called him back, and in his return--buried desires come to surface.Arya volunteered to accompany Jon in his house for a month while he recovers from his injuries and adjusts to the new drug that was prescribed to him.
Relationships: Bran Stark/Lyanna Mormont (mentioned), Jon Snow/Arya Stark, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell (background), Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark (Background)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 96





	The Godsister

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emilie_L_C](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilie_L_C/gifts), [JSKITN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSKITN/gifts).



> A mostly plotless smut that's been playing around in my head for quite some time.  
> Please, please, please: Comments are life! Let me know what you think.

A long moan escaped her throat as Jon filled her to the hilt.

Her legs were wrapped around his waist as his strong body pinned her on the couch, her feet curled in pleasure.  
  
Arya bit her lip instinctively, so hard that it might bleed--for no purpose at all. No one could hear them if she screamed, or cried in pleasure, only her and Jon were inside his luxurious mansion that overlooked the mountain view outside. The next residential house is a five minute car ride away from his private gates and the driveway that led to this house. 

No one would hear her pleasure.

Not even Jon. 

She turned her head from his nearing face as he slowly moved inside her, breath hot on her neck. 

His eyes were closed--he doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

But she does. 

How could she let this happen? 

The underlying guilt inside her heart was powerless to the pleasure that Jon gave her as his cock filled her, moaning shamelessly in his sleep as he took her. 

She knew this would happen.

She could’ve stopped him. 

She should’ve. 

She couldn’t.

She didn’t want to. 

How could she let this happen? 

Why did she want this to happen?

**THREE WEEKS AGO**

Arya stormed past the hospital lobby and practically shoved people to their faces as her feet scurried to the ICU waiting doors. Staff tried to calm her, detain her--but she was unfazed. 

It was probably the worst phone call of her life. Arya was at the end of her wits with Gendry, and they were breaking up--for the fifth time since they started dating earlier this year, when Bran called her about Jon. 

“Arya--it’s bad. He’s not conscious. We’re at Black, ICU--Sansa already cleared you at the lobby--”   
  
“What the fuck happened? It’s one in the morning, Bran! What the fu--”   
  
“I’m not sure--he was head of the operations but--he got stabbed before they cleared the area after the mission and--”

“I’m on my way.” Arya interrupted, starting her car. “Out. I need to go.” she told Gendry. 

“Let me guess--your perfect fucking ‘brother’ is calling for you again.” Gendry sneered. “You know what, Arya--”

“Yes, he’s in the fucking ICU fighting for his life, so get the fuck out of my car.” Arya sterned. “Gendry--it’s over. For the last time.” she muttered out as he opened the car door. 

Gendry bit his cheek and nodded curtly before exiting, clearly displeased about their fate.

“Arya…” Bran called from her phone.

“Bran, I’ll be there in less than 15... I WILL be there…”  
  
“No--it’s just… Before they took him in the operating room, father said he asked for you.” Bran said quietly. “He wasn’t conscious for a long time, but he managed to say your name before he had to be put to sleep. I thought you should know that.” 

**\-------**

“He’s out of danger.” Ned Stark whispered on her head as his strong arms stilled her. “He will be alright.” 

Tears threatened the side of her eyes as Robb and Bran joined their embrace.   
  
“Your mother and Sansa are talking to Dr. Red right now. I would be doing so, but--I knew that your brothers alone can’t detain you from going straight to the operating table to bully Jon into coming back to you.” Ned attempted in jest. 

“I’m a bit surprised that you stormed past Sandor.” Robb chided, but worry was still visible on his face. 

Arya rolled her eyes. Sandor was Sansa’s husband. A former professional football player, he is particularly known for his strong build and brutish personality. They’ve come to know later on that he is actually just a big teddy bear.

“He was distracted by the vending machine.” 

They all managed a relieved chuckle.

**TWO WEEKS AND 2 DAYS AGO**

Things went rather smoothly after Jon’s operation. Albeit TOO smoothly. He recovered pretty fast, and none of his motor skills were affected by the gruesome stabs to his chest. The traitors were discovered in his team and they were immediately dealt with--but Dr. Melissa Red outlined a strict outpatient guideline nonetheless. 

Jon was not allowed back on the field for the next six months, and he is not cleared to take any out of field assignments for the next three. The post-op medication that she prescribed for him was experimental, and it only had one severe side effect that she was concerned about.

“Sleepwalking.” Ned announced at the dinner table. “Jon will be released tomorrow, as he seems to be taking well to this new drug, but his sleep cycle greatly concerns the doctor. She’s confident that it will adjust in a month or so--but it will be dangerous for him to be alone…” 

“So, let’s have him stay here?” Catelyn offered as she set another plate of vegetables on the table. “I can have Sansa’s old room cleared--”   
  
“I had the same thought but Dr. Red highly recommended that he stays in familiar surroundings for the meantime. His home would be the most beneficial setting for his recovery. Someone should stay with him there for at least a month until--”   
  
“I suppose Margaery and I could…” Robb offered. 

“Your wife is due to have your firstborn in a matter of weeks, Robb. Sandor and I can’t leave the children for too long--but maybe we can switch turns? Bran, Arya and--” Sansa countered. 

“I have to host the Children’s Olympics in a week--Rickon is still in school...” Bran answered.

“I’ll do it.” Arya offered casually.

They all turned to face her.

She shrugged. “What? It’s not like I haven’t stayed at his place before…”   
  
“Yes, but--that Bull of yours might not like the idea very much.” Sandor huffed as he took another serving of chicken. Catelyn beamed. Sandor once declared that he only proposed to Sansa because of Catelyn’s fried chicken. It won their mother’s heart greatly.   
  
“Gendry and I broke up.” Arya answered. “For real, this time, before anyone says shit.” 

Bran looked up questioningly.

Catelyn narrowed her eyes. “Arya Stark--what did you…”   
  
“Mum, it was never going to work out. I know, I know, you loved him. But--I really wish we just stayed friends.” Arya explained. “We were great as friends--as a couple, not so much.” 

From across the table, Ned Stark gave her an approving nod.

“Also, Jon liked him up until you started dating.” Rickon noted. 

“Well, he’s never liked anyone who Arya dated, really. Remember Dayne? Never stood a chance.” Robb laughed. “He did all of my big brother duties for me. Good thing too--I had a lot to deal with as far as…”   
  
Sansa narrowed her eyes at him. “We will not be discussing my previous dating life, thank you, Robb.”   
  
Sandor bellowed. “We should! Let’s talk about that first boyfriend of yours, thought he owned the world and developed lipstick for men--that Lannister…”   
  
Sansa elbowed him. “Not if you want to sleep in the dog house again, dear.” she managed a small grin. “Are you sure, Arya? Can you for a month?”   
  
Arya nodded. “Yeah. I mean--my work’s not far from his house--and I stayed there more times than I could count, so--it’ll be fine. Just like old times.”   
  


**ONE WEEK AND 3 DAYS AGO** **  
  
**

Arya settled in comfortably for the most part, she was no stranger to Jon’s house. Nymeria and Ghost have always played well together and knew grounds pretty well and her work was understanding about cutting hours. 

A nurse checked on him everyday and her family has been generous in pre-cooking their meals that they never had to order take-out, although Arya still indulged in big beefy burgers at work. 

Nothing much has changed.

Nothing at all. 

Except maybe…

For starters, Arya has no memory without Jon in it. Not really. Robb and Jon had been best friends since they were toddlers, even before Arya was born. Though Ned is really only Jon’s godfather, he raised Jon as his own when Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen perished in a plane crash when Jon was seven years old. He really didn’t know any other parents other than Ned and Catelyn Stark. 

So--if there were changes, she would notice. 

She would--right? 

Like how intensely Jon stared at her when she told him an anecdote about work, or run a commentary about the documentary they just watched. 

Was it different from before? 

Arya felt like his gaze would darken when it landed on her lips as she laughed. 

It made her blush. 

Arya remembered having a little crush on him when she was a teenager. She was viciously jealous when he brought home Ygritte Wilde for dinner.   
  
_“Why her?” she asked when he seeked her room after everyone had gone._ _  
_ _  
_ _“She reminds me of you, my love.” Jon answered with a smile._

She learned to love Ygritte, and Val--and even really tried to like Daenerys--but for reasons he never cared to share, he broke off all those relationships. 

“What?” Arya asked, gulping as she took a carton of milk from the fridge.   
  
“What?” Jon answered from the center counter.

“You’re--staring.” she noted, feeling warmth rise up to her cheeks. “Is everything okay?” 

Jon averted his gaze and took a glass from her. “Yeah.” 

“Sansa said that little Kate caught a cold and they won’t be up for dinner after all--do you want to just reheat these and veg out on the sofa? Or--”   
  
Jon nodded. “Whatever you want is fine.” 

Arya shrugged. “You--didn’t sleep last night--I know you tried.” 

Jon sighed. “This new medication... I mean, it’s great but--”   
  
Arya nodded. “Stay off your phone too. The lights might not be helping very much.” 

“Yes, mother.” Jon joked. 

“Shut up, stupid. I’m trying to help you!” Arya laughed.   
  
“I know. I’m glad it’s you that’s helping. I’m--I’m really happy that it’s you here, do you know that?” he said.   
  
“You’re welcome.” Arya answered. “I’m happy I’m here too.” 

“He mustn’t be too thrilled that you’re here though.” Jon muttered as he drummed his fingers on the table. “Not that I really care about his feelings…” 

Arya stayed quiet.

“Someone had to bring him up eventually.”   
  
“Jon…” Arya started. “We--we broke up.” 

Jon stilled, gaze boring into hers again.   
  
“It wasn’t working, we should’ve just stayed friends. I was going to tell you but--I didn’t want to take focus away from…”   
  
“Come here.” he motioned. 

Arya slowly walked up to him and found herself enveloped in his arms. 

Like usual. 

But why does it feel different? 

It doesn’t. Nothing is different about Jon holding her. He always holds her. 

But it feels different.

Jon buried his nose on top of her head, and his tall form had to slightly lift her petite form from the floor to fit into him. 

His hands were wrapped possessively around her waist, and she could feel his body heat through her shirt. 

“I love you.” he whispered before placing his lips on her scalp. “I love you.” 

Arya nodded. “Love you. Try to sleep after the movie? Look, I’ll put on the worst. Godfather III.”

**ONE WEEK AND 5 DAYS AGO**

Something has been terribly wrong with him since he came back from death. 

Terribly wrong. 

While he always loved Arya and at the back of his mind knew that it was probably more than siblingly, he had always been good at having his impure thoughts of her resigned. 

He couldn’t have her. 

She was Robb’s little sister. 

She was Father’s daughter. 

She was as good as his sister. 

She was his. 

His.

No. 

He shouldn’t even be thinking about having her. 

Yet, here he was--on his second shower of the day before Robb and Margaery would join them for dinner--after a good wank with thoughts of only her on his mind. 

What the hell was wrong with him? 

After he was blindsided by his brothers and he only saw darkness upon closing his eyes--her face was the last image on his mind. 

_‘Promise me--you’ll come back to me. Promise me.’ her voice called._

Little sister--I would do anything for you. 

Ever since he awoke, his mind and body ached for her and her alone. 

The old him would’ve been terrified about the idea of her staying alone at his home for a month, being aware of his newly uncontrollable thoughts. 

But not him today. Oh no.

Everytime she smiled, she spoke or she breathed--wicked thoughts effortlessly wrapped his mind.

He watched her silently as she jabbered on the phone with her father while she put her clothes away in the guest room upon moving in temporarily. She had a fitted white shirt on and a pair of skinny jeans with her wild hair messily bunned up atop her small head. 

All he could manage to do was to bathe her plump breasts with his gaze. They were uncovered under her shirt, and he could see the rosy peaks through the transparency of her shirt. 

For a petite woman, she carried them really well, he thought. So soft, perfectly filled rounded beauties--he imagined that they would fit perfectly in his hands. He ached to put them inside his mouth and suck on them until they sored. He wanted to put his cock in between them and bathe them in both his spit and cum. 

When she spoke to him now, it had been a struggle to focus on her stories. Arya’s mouth had always appealed to him, but all he wanted to do was to place his forefinger inside her perfectly red pouty lips and ask her to suck on it--so he could at least imagine how his member would feel wrapped by her velvety tongue. He wants to cum right in there too--and he would cum a lot… So much so that he could see his own juices all over her face--her jaw, her throat, her chest and everywhere else. He was obsessed with the thought of his cum all over her body. 

What was wrong with him? 

“You’re staring again.” Arya noted after Robb and Margaery left after dinner. They brought over some pork chops cooked in apples with cilantro rice and butter cake for dessert. 

Yet all he could think about during the dinner was how smooth Arya’s legs looked in her denim shorts, and how much flesh of her breasts were available for his viewing pleasure in her black cami. 

He hardly touched the food on his plate.

“I’m sorry.” he managed as he placed the last dish inside the washer. 

“It’s okay--I just want to make sure you’re alright. Do you think you’d catch more than three hours of sleep tonight? I’ll keep watch.” she offered, a hand soft on his bare arm. 

Jon wanted to hiss at the contact but controlled himself. 

The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her.

Never that. 

He loved her.

He remembered one of their biggest rows. It was the night she told him that she had started dating Gendry Baratheon, who he remembered attending high school with. He was a well-liked fellow for the most part, labeled a cool, good jock. Jon didn’t mind him so much until he started appearing on Arya’s Instagram stories. 

_“He just--he needs the recognition. We’ve been together for six months--”  
_ _“SIX FUCKING MONTHS?” he fumed._ _  
_ _“--It’s time that he’s introduced to the table as my boyf--.” Arya finished.  
_ _“No.” Jon answered.  
_ _“No? I wasn’t fucking asking for your permission.”_ _  
_ _“I won’t give it to you anyway! I don’t--listen, no.”_ _  
_ _“No? Did I tell you no when you brought Ygritte home?”_ _  
_ _“Arya…”_ _  
_ _“Or Val? Or DAENERYS?” she said the last name with so much disdain. “No, you ass. I welcomed them all and tried to befriend them because--”_ _  
_ _“Do you even fucking have any idea why all of them ended?” he countered._ _  
_ _“--I loved you and I will have to accept whoever the fuck you bring home. Now, Gendry is not only my boyfriend…”_ _  
_ _Jon wanted to punch something._ _  
_ _“--He’s also my friend. We were best friends before we decided to start dating so--”_ _  
_ _“You have to know why I ended it with all of them---”_ _  
_ _“--if you love me at all, TRULY love me, you’d accept this.” she firmed.  
_ _A pause lingered over them before she cupped his cheek with her small hand.  
_ _“I wasn’t even afraid of telling Dad about this--even Mum. Not even Robb. Just you. I was afraid--still kinda scared of your reaction… Jon, please…”  
_ _Jon held her hand and sighed resentfully. “Never be afraid of me. I love you.”_

**ONE WEEK TWO DAYS AGO** **  
  
**

_I love you cuz._ _  
_ _I love you too, cuz.  
_ _-Vincent Mancini & Mary Corleone  
_ _Godfather III_

Arya’s lids were getting heavy until she heard a soft snore from behind her.

Jon was finally asleep. 

Thank the Gods. 

She checked the clock--just forty minutes after midnight. Jon’s arm was wrapped under her neck and his other arm locked her on the couch, pressing her back against his belly. 

She grabbed the remote to turn off the tv just as the characters were about to engage in a love scene, but Jon’s arm tightened around her waist at the slightest wriggle. 

Well, at least he’s asleep. 

She was dressed for bed anyway. 

She had on a loose white shirt over her black flannel pajamas and Jon was in his gym shorts and shirt. 

The guy was also freshly showered--he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Three times just today, at least. 

Arya settled in his embrace, ready to sleep when she noticed that his hand had slipped under her shirt and on top of her belly. 

She bit her lip at the contact but shrugged it off. They’ve been asleep on the couch together lots of times--and the touch doesn’t really bother her. 

Not really. 

Not even at all. 

It’s just different, that’s all. 

His fingers seemed to trace small circles on her skin. Or was it because she was breathing too hard and she was moving them?

No matter--it’s not worth waking him over. 

He hasn’t had a lot of sleep in a while. 

He should sleep.

“Don’t leave me…” he mumbled in a whisper. “Ar…”

Arya turned her head to study him--he was still asleep. 

But her turn moved the pads of his fingers directly under the creases of her boobs. 

‘Shit.’ she thought. ‘Shit.’ 

Arya tried to adjust herself, to no avail. If anything, her adjustment only placed his index and middle finger to perfectly mold a breast, and her ass now rested on top of his groin. 

Which was rock hard. 

Arya gasped. 

She’s not a virgin--she knows what a man’s hard-on feels like. 

But Jon wasn’t just any man. 

He was Jon. 

And he had a hard on that was pressed against her ass. 

The thought sent a familiar feeling right under her navel. 

Wait, no! 

She can’t do this to him! He’s not even aware of what he was doing!

Gently, Arya nudged his hand away from her braless chest--

A hiss of protest escaped Jon’s mouth--directly onto her nape. 

Her weak spot. 

His breath was suddenly hot on her neck, and her own sigh escaped her lips. 

Oh--this is wrong.

Very wrong. 

“Jon…” Arya coughed, as softly as she could. “Jon, can you move your…” 

Jon’s exhale on her shoulder sent a second, more violent shudder below her belly.   
  
“Mmm…” came Jon’s response, and his free hand now fully cupped one of her boobs under the shirt. 

Arya wriggled instinctively again, but this time, her body seemed to press closer to him rather than apart. 

What was wrong with her?   
  
Arya tried to control her own breathing as Jon’s hand started to squeeze her breasts. Her bottom started to grind up and down his hardened shaft. 

Why wasn’t she stopping this? 

Arya was reminded of the doctor’s instructions once again--under no circumstances must she wake him during his ‘sleepwalking’ episodes. It would be dangerous for him to awake in such a shocking circumstance. She was only there to ensure his safety; make sure he didn’t wander too far, didn’t get near anything that could bring danger--like the stove, knives, other cutlery, the pool, stairs, and etc. 

Well, her boobs didn’t exactly bring him any harm did they? 

‘Maybe it brings him comfort.’ she thought as his fingers started to play with her nipples. 

Maybe she should allow his ministrations for now. 

What was wrong with her? 

She should stop this. 

She really should. 

Arya decided to turn and lay on her back then--but this only seemed to allow for Jon to play with her bare tits completely. 

Just then--without thinking, without thinking at all--Arya lifted her shirt. 

Her breath hitched when Jon lifted himself from the side to rise on his elbow. 

“Shit…” she gasped, thinking that he awakened. 

But Jon’s eyes were still closed--they were closed when he brought both of his hands to squeeze her full breasts together. 

Still closed when his mouth descended upon a nipple to suckle on it gently. 

‘Fuck…’ Arya groaned in her thoughts. ‘Stop him. What are you doing? Stop him.’ 

But she didn’t. 

She couldn’t. 

She didn’t want to. 

He licked each nipple lewdly, like a greedy child. Arya watched as he devoured her, finding her torso lifting to meet his mouth further. His own moans bought hot breath on her peaks, and she knew that her cotton panties were soaked even before any touches had landed between her legs. 

Her own heaving breaths and the sound of her tits plopping in and out of Jon’s full lips were the only sounds that filled the vast living room. 

Not able to resist further, one of her hands rubbed Jon’s cock from his shorts, and she placed another finger to rub on top of her own pajamas. 

It was all she needed. 

Within a minute, she bit her lower lip to stifle her cry of pleasure as she peaked--with Jon relentless on her creamy bosoms--glistening shamelessly with his spit. 

As she came down, she tucked her head in his chest to halt his actions--and as if on instinct, Jon lay back down on his side to cuddle her back to his chest. 

Arya checked to study his form--he was still fast asleep. 

Cock was still hard on her hand. 

Shame followed soon after when she took her hand away and slowly untangled herself from the couch. 

What the hell did she just do? 

**FIVE DAYS AGO**

Arya wished she felt guilt over the situation. 

Well--she did. 

But not enough to stop it. 

Not even enough to bring it to Jon’s attention. 

The last four days were gruesome for her mentally. At work, all she could think about were the sight of her wet breasts against Jon’s face. 

It should have ended on the first night. 

But the following morning, during breakfast--Jon declared that falling asleep next to her was the most peaceful he’s been since the incident. He asked if she’d be alright with laying with him till he fell asleep for the meantime. 

How could she have refused anything like that?   
She sinfully enjoyed that stolen night. 

So for the past three nights--after dinner, she would lay with Jon in his bed until he ‘fell asleep.’

She waited patiently until he would doze off--and shortly after, his mischievous hands would find her breasts. 

Which she left uncovered each time. 

She found herself rubbing against him shamelessly as he played with her in his sleep, too caught up in her pleasure. After she’d reach hers--he would resign anyway. Then she slept in her own bedroom with guilt yet no concrete plans to stop.

But something different happened last night that brought her a bit of alarm.

Jon spit in the valley of her chest before he suckled on them greedily--but his hand slipped under her pajamas for the first time. 

Under her panties. 

Oh--she was already soaked by the time his fingers reached her pussy. 

The contact seemed to elicit a groan from him so loud that she thought that he had awakened. 

She grinded on him shortly before she came on his hand--which didn’t even penetrate her hole and slowly removed it from between her legs. 

What if--he smells her scent on his hand and he’s suddenly made aware of what she allowed him to do? 

Of what she wanted him to keep doing? 

Fortunately, everything seemed to have remained unnoticed this morning. Bran and Rickon were also joining them for dinner--so perhaps she could entice them to play with videogames and tire Jon out so much that natural sleep could fall upon him easily. 

Then she could do what she was actually supposed to be doing for him; keeping an eye out for his safety. 

Not taking advantage of his sleepwalking side-effect. 

Jon wouldn’t do this to her consciously, would he? 

“Tired?” She asked as he put away the console controllers back in the entertainment center. It was past eleven when Bran and Rickon decided to leave for the evening. 

“Surprisingly, not really.” he answered with a shrug. “Would you believe me if I told you that I seem to have been better at Mario Kart after--after my surgery?” 

Arya laughed. “You were brutal. You usually let the boys win.” 

“How come you didn’t want to play tonight? I probably would’ve let you kick my ass, you know.”   
  
Arya raised an eyebrow. “I would’ve won whether or not you let me, Stupid.” 

Jon managed a smile. “It sounds stupid--but I… I’m just so used to having you beside me. Felt weird. But you at least watched, I guess.” 

Arya bit her lip and nodded. Ever since--well, four days past, she has tried to avoid being too close in proximity to Jon. 

Except at night when it was time to get off. 

Gods, she was sick. 

“Hey.” she called out. 

Jon met her gaze. “What?”   
  
“You’re--well, were--staring.” she stammered. “Sure you’re alright?” 

“Yeah… Time for bed, I think.” he proposed. 

Arya nodded. “I’ll be right in--I just need to shower and brush and all of that.” 

**\-----**

Luck seemed to have favored her anxiety. When she stepped into Jon’s room he was already sound asleep. With reluctance, she left his room, but kept the door open, and her own bedroom door as well so she could monitor him. 

A night away should stave her off, she thought. 

She lay back down in her bed and browsed through her phone then, distracting her own thoughts. She answered a few text messages, including one that she might’ve missed from an old friend, Mercy. 

Mercy lived in Braavos--and because of the time difference, she was able to take a phone call, which Arya was only too willing to make. 

Seriously, anything that could distract her from thinking about joining Jon in bed is welcome. 

“You never update your social media! I thought you and Gendry would always get together--then somehow it was over even before it began! Shame, I always felt that the two of you would make such a cute and loving couple--I mean with the friendship chemistry and all…” jabbered her friend. 

Since she wasn’t going to lay with Jon this evening, she decided to get comfortable and wear an oversized shirt that Robb used to wear before he gained his newly-married, I don’t work-out anymore bod. 

They spoke for some minutes before Jon’s form appeared on her open doorway.

“Hold on a sec… Jon? Everything alright?” she asked, raising her knees to get up. 

She was met with silence as he walked towards the foot of her queen sized bed. 

He was fully sleepwalking.

“Yeah--remember, my brother? I mentioned that I was staying…” Arya started, wary as Jon knelt at the end of the bed. 

He probably seeked her presence in his sleep.   
  
The thought made her smile. 

When she was younger, she always seeked Jon’s bed for comfort when she had nightmares and he would hold her through the night.

She thought that maybe he seeked her comfort in his unrest now, too. After all, he did mention that he slept better when he fell asleep in her arms. 

Until his hands travelled the length of her leg. 

Arya’s eyes widened. “Uhm--hey, Merc--do you think I could call you back?”

“Is everything okay? I mean, I need to get back to work in ten, I was hoping you could take up these last minutes before I returned to boredom.” her friend replied.

“Uh…” 

Jon parted her legs underneath him, groaning a bit as his fingers touched her panty covered cunt. 

Arya only complied, a bit wary over her situation on the phone. “Yeah, sure, Merc… I just… I need to stay a bit quiet because…”   
  
“No, it’s alright! I meant to tell you about this guy anyway…” Mercy went on. 

Arya watched as Jon hitched a leg over his shoulder and ran his smooth lips up her thigh, knee and legs. 

His head settled on her covered mound and he inhaled sharply. 

“Fuck!” Arya gasped out loud. 

“What happened?” Mercy asked. 

“What? No--nothing I just--I’m excited about this guy... You said he--what again?” 

Mercy continued her tale and Arya bit her lip to stop making further noise as she felt Jon’s mouth open at her covered pussy, moistening the cloth barrier with his own spit as his tongue attempted to taste her.

She moved the speaker away from her mouth and closed her eyes, her hips involuntarily moving towards his seeking mouth.   
  
“Jon--Jon, please…” she whispered. 

Jon please, what? 

Stop? 

Keep going? 

She doesn’t know anymore. 

What her mind didn’t know, her body did. As her cotton undies grew more moistened by the second, both by her own juices and Jon’s spit, her free hand moved the cloth to the side to give him full access to her pussy.

“Arya?” Mercy called. “You sure that everything’s okay there?” 

“Yeah, no--I mean… He seems to like you a lot…” Arya managed, deep in lust as Jon tongue and lips devoured her cunt and his hands rested under her ass to lift closer to his face. “What did he say about--?”

“Gods, he doesn’t really say much really. Just wants to fuck all day!” Mercy cackled. “He’d fuck me in his sleep if he could. One time, we were staying at his parents and...” 

‘Fuck…’ Arya thought, no longer pretending to listen to her friend’s tale as two of Jon’s fingers invaded her. 

He lapped at her nub as if he was starved, he kept groaning into her slit in frustration as she noticed that he started to hump the bed slowly too. 

‘Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.’

‘Fuck--I’m gonna cum…’ she thought as she reached her climax. 

“I’m supposed to go over on Saturday--oh, shit, Arry. My lunch is over. Thanks for keeping me company. Love you. I’ll ring again soon, yeah?” 

“Yeah…” Arya managed, her face newly warmed from her waning orgasm. Jon hasn’t relented, but she was able to settle his head on her free thigh to give her sensitive cunt a break.   
  
“Soon.” she hung up. 

Arya moved her leg to discover Jon’s face glistening with her own juices. One of his free hands moved up to her waist and he seemed to be sleeping soundly.

She grabbed a couple of tissues from the bedside table to wipe his face, shame overtaking her emotions once again. 

What the fuck was wrong with her? 

**EARLIER TODAY**

Arya managed to avoid the temptation of Jon’s sleeping hunger for her for about three full days before she finally cracked.

“You don’t have to--you never do… I just--I didn’t think you minded, at least you never used to…” Jon started when they went out for ice cream that day. 

“What are you talking about?” Arya asked. 

“I--sleeping next to me…” he answered. 

“But I do sleep next to you!” she argued.   
  
“Well--you’ve acted differently since… I mean, do I act differently too? Have I in any way…”   
  
“What? In any way, what?! No, of course not--what?”   
  
“Maybe I’m just a bit paranoid. But you haven’t even laid next to me during movie nights anymore, or sit next to me when we have company over dinner--or give me hugs in the morning before you depart for work. It’s like--you avoid my touches until you absolutely have to… I just wanted to tell you that you don’t ever HAVE to… The last thing I want is for you to have an aversion towards me--for you to be afraid of me. We’ve cuddled to sleep since we were quite young, and I know that we’re not children anymore so maybe you do feel weird about it now…”

“No!” Arya interrupted. “No, Jon--I don’t.” guilt overtook her again. 

If he only fucking knew.

Since their last tryst--Arya was especially careful about not being too close to him--for his own protection. She won’t be able to stop herself from wanting more if he continued. She managed to convince Bran and Rickon to spend the long weekend over with them, and they kept him busy enough. 

While she did lay with him to sleep, she had the initiative to leave the door open and go back to her own room before anything else could transpire because of her brothers’ presence.

Jon gave her a curt nod. “Alright.” 

She knew that he remained unconvinced. 

“Look, it’s just us again tonight. How about we curl up on the couch and watch Godfather III again hmm? The worst one in the trilogy. That would probably put you to sleep. I know you haven’t--in the last couple of days.”   
  
“Yeah--something’s been off. I don’t know what. But Arya--if you don’t want to, you already help me enough by just being here… Being with me…”   
  
“Jon--I want to. Trust me, I want to.” 

“I love you.” 

Arya’s breath hitched. 

Jon has always declared those three words to her, repeatedly. Through texts, emails, games, on social media, in person--but lately the meaning seemed to have shifted greatly. 

“Arya?” Jon called out. “You okay?” 

Arya nodded. “Yeah.”

Jon smiled. 

“Love you.” she managed.   
  


**PRESENT**

Jon’s cock rocked into her core, his generous length and full girth stretched her to the brim. 

She let him.

She wanted him to. 

She wanted him to fuck her. 

“Jon…” she moaned as his hot breath coated her neck. “Jon…” 

To keep herself from making further noise, she bit into her shirt, exposing her breasts to him again in the process. 

He fucked her slowly--perfectly paced and she was able to sheath his entirety inside of her.

‘Fuck. Gods, don’t stop fucking me… Please.’ 

Her feet bounced on his bare ass as he pounded her core, meeting her gasps moan per moan as his bare torso brushed intimately on her soft chest. 

“I’m gonna--I’m gonna cum…” she whispered, not sure of the purpose of her declaration. 

Just then, Jon’s hips quickened inside her pussy--and drowning in lust as she were, her eyes widened with worry. 

‘Shit, he can’t cum inside me.’ 

‘I didn’t think this through. I’m not on the pill! I never had raw sex before.’

“Jon--don’t…”

_Jon do…_

“You can’t--you can’t cum inside…” 

_Fuck, I want you to._

I want it. I want it. I want you.

What the fuck was wrong with her? 

Everything.

Everything was wrong with her. 

But she didn’t care. 

She didn’t care anymore.

With a cry, Arya met Jon’s shudder with her own--and for the very first time in her life felt a generous spill of pleasure deep inside her womb.

Jon came inside her.

Jon--her Jon--just came inside her pussy. 

She held onto Jon as she allowed herself to come down from her own orgasm. While he softened inside her, she wondered how she could clean the mess from this couch once he’s settled off to sleep. Then she wondered about driving off to get herself a morning after pill. 

Just as she calmed, Jon’s torso lifted from her neck. 

With his lids half open--he met her terrified gaze with his own. 

**\-----**

Panic began to overtake her senses when she met Jon’s opened eyes. 

‘He’s awake.’   
‘He’s still inside of me and he’s awake.’

FUCK.

“Jon, I’m sorry--let me explain…” she started, shifting her legs to untangle. 

“Please--I don’t want to wake up yet.” Jon replied, his thumb touched her lip. 

Arya’s brows narrowed. “Jon--I… I should have…”

“Shh… love--I don’t want to wake from this…” he groaned--and his hips slowly started pounding into her again. “If I could, I never want to wake from this…” 

“Wait--Jon…” 

Does he think he’s dreaming?

“Jon--this isn’t--you’re not…” 

Whatever she wanted to declare, Jon took in his mouth as he bent down and kissed her for the first time. 

Arya opened her mouth to accept his tongue for the first time, and starved moans escaped both their lips in unison as their tongue swirled against each other. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long..” he whispered, tracing smaller kisses on her cheek and neck, down to her collarbone and breasts. “So long, Arya. You have no idea.”

He said her name. 

He wants this?

Is he really awake?

“Take this off.” he commanded, though he lifted her shirt off on his own. 

“Jon, please…” Arya pleaded, but her lips we met with his again.

Now conscious he palmed her full breasts, eliciting a long moan from her. 

“So full… Your tits were made for me. These are mine…” he declared huskily, licking both her nipples lewdly. “Mine.” 

He kissed her lips.

“Mine.”

Grabbed her ass underneath him.

“Mine.”

He then lifted her again to meet his hard cock.

“Mine.” he declared with finality.

Arya looked down to where their sexes met. “But--you just… You just came…”   
  
“All night, for you. All night.” he moaned as he entered her with ease. “I never want to stop fucking you--I’ll fuck you forever. Tell me you want me…” 

“Jon…”

“Tell me.” he commanded, pummeling in her core. “Tell me.”   
  
“Jon--this isn’t…”   
  
“Please, Arya--please… let me have you.” he begged into her shoulder. “Tell me.” 

The thought of his miraculous recovery and the sensation of his cock as it rocked her drowned Arya into unfathomable lust once again.

“I do--I want you, Jon. I do.”  
  
“Ask me to keep fucking you.”   
  
Arya held his neck as his pace quickened. “Please…”   
  
“Ask me… Arya, ask me.”

“Fuck me.” she relented, giving into her body’s desire. “Fuck me.” 

Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.

Arya reached her pleasure twice before Jon came inside her for the second time, with a very awake, loud, possessive and shameless growl. 

**\-------**

Jon allowed himself to fall on top of her body after his climax, praying that he doesn’t awake from the slumber. 

Since being blessed with the best, most vivid dreams of finally having Arya--he’s had more control of his emotions and desire in his wake. 

He truly didn’t want to wake up from this dream, but he feared that sleep would leave him soon. 

“Jon?” Arya whispered underneath him.  
  
He slowly lifted and studied her face once more. 

He stole a gentle kiss from her mouth--just one more favor before his cruel fate could remind him that he couldn’t have her. 

It wasn’t until he lifted from her face that he considered that maybe he wasn’t dreaming. 

Arya’s eyes were too real. They reflected genuine emotions that he was all too confident to decipher. 

Pleasure.  
Worry.  
Love.  
Confusion.  
Fear. 

Fear. 

Shit!

He abruptly pulled himself away from her, feeling the solid form of his arms after he gathered his sweatpants from the edge of the couch. 

What the fuck did he just do? 

“I’m sorry.” Arya managed. “Jon, please--I’m sorry.” 

Sorry?

She’s sorry?   
  
“I shouldn’t have…” She started as she gathered her shirt. 

“Arya--I shouldn’t have! I did this…” 

“I shouldn’t have let you! You were--asleep and I---”  
  
“Asleep? How many times have we…”   
  
“Just now.” Arya answered. “At least all the way…”   
  
Those weren’t dreams after all. 

Guilt started to overtake him. 

“Arya I’m sorry--please don’t…”  
  
“Jon--I wanted it. I took advantage of this side-effect that I was supposed to be keeping you safe from. This is my fault--I’m a fucking---fuck.” Arya hissed, gathering her shorts. “I’ll just go--Bran is available after tomorrow and…”   
  
“No!” he panicked. “Don’t leave, Arya please. Don’t leave me.” 

“You don’t understand, Jon--I took advantage of you in your sleep. I made excuses in my head as to why I shouldn’t stop you--when the truth is… I didn’t want to! It’s sick that I let this…”

In a moment, Jon grabbed her elbow and kissed her fiercely.

Arya tried to push on his shoulders for a moment before melting into his mouth. 

“Wha…”  
  
“I love you.” he whispered. “I love you, I’ve always loved you. Please don’t leave me.”   
  
“You--you, love me?” Arya asked. “Like--love me?”   
  
“I’ve always wanted to tell you--but I was afraid that it would change us--that you’d find it weird, that you didn’t want me. So I tried, I tried to push it back--I didn’t want to lose you that way, or any way for that matter.” 

“Why do you think that none of my relationships worked out? None of them were you. I was just stupid and I didn’t know what to do about it so I just let it be. Then you got yourself in an honest relationship with Gendry and I hated myself for leaving it at that. I got a second chance at life and all I could think about was you--the longing in my heart turned into pain, an undecipherable ache because I didn’t have you this way.” 

“I thought I could only have you in my dreams but to discover that--you wanted me, even in our wake...” Jon continued, taking her fingers to his lips and kissing each of them. “You want me…”  
  
Arya met his gaze but said nothing.

“I love you, Arya. It’s always been you. I realize that this might be too much for you, and you can’t say it back in the same way that I’ve declared it to you--but if you give me a chance…” 

Arya shook her head. “No.” 

Jon felt his heart twinge. 

“Arya…”  
  
“No, Jon... It’s not too much for me.” Arya declared, stepping up to wrap her arms around his neck. “And I can say it back because it’s true.”   
  
“I love you, too.”   
  


**TWO YEARS AND THREE MONTHS LATER** **  
****(and years thereafter)**

  
“That sounds wicked!” Margaery squealed as she poured herself another glass of mimosa. It was a warm summer day and the Stark ladies decided to have a relaxing day by the beach with their children as their husbands attended a ball game.

“So you mean to tell me--” Sansa clarified, holding back a chuckle. “That to this day--Jon still tries to make love to you, even when he’s dead asleep?” 

Arya guffawed. “Tries? Hah. Try getting fucked three times a day, and him counting only two because he was dead asleep in the middle of the night for the other one.” 

“Oh my God, Arya! Language!” Sansa tried to scold, but couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“I thought for a second it was going to be a dangerous thing; like--what if he just needed to fuck? Will he just do anyone available if I happen to not be around during these episodes? The doctor shared her input--but the ultimate test came when we had a nurse stay the weekend. I had to know for myself because, unconscious or not, this was dangerous. After he sniffed her neck, he went back to our empty bed. Oh, he didn’t like it! But we’re theorizing that he’s indeed seeking my scent somehow. The doctor just advised us not to spend more than two days apart--and being that my husband is an eternal greenboy when it comes to the sack, well--it’s been an every single day activity nonetheless.” 

Margaery sighed. “Oh… I miss the honeymoon phase. Robb and I used to hump like rabbits before Edward came around. Now I just have my hands too full and we’re lucky if we could get at least one every two days. And Robb wants us to start trying for another one soon! Gods, when will we find the time?” 

Sansa nodded. “I’m relieved that we decided to have the girls early. They’re a bit older now so the old beat is back in the bedroom. I think we’re happy with the two that we have, anyway. Sandor hasn’t expressed desires to add to our family, and I don’t feel the need to disrupt our tight foursome--even if Arianna and Kate are daddy’s girls.” 

Arya sipped her soda quietly as she watched Lyanna Mormont, Bran’s new girlfriend, on the beach shore dip her son’s feet into the shallow water playfully.

“Arya?” Sansa queried.

“Oh--sorry, what?” 

“When do you think you and Jon would start trying for another? He’s repeatedly promised our father a whole basketball team!” Sansa laughed. 

Upon the revelation of their new relationship, Eddard Stark was probably their fiercest supporter. In the wedding speech, he declared that his hopes of them finally getting together became a possibility when Jon called for Arya before he was wheeled into the Operation Room.

Arya gulped. "Well..."

  
“Wait a minute---” Margaery posed, sitting up from her recliner and lowering her sunglasses. “You haven’t had a glass of champagne--you’ve been sipping on soda… Oh my God…”   
  


“ARYA!” Sansa exclaimed. “Aemon is five months old! Are you--” 

Arya rolled her eyes. “Sansa--we didn’t really plan…” 

Sansa and Margaery squealed in delight and showered her in hugs and kisses on the cheek. 

“How are you feeling?” Sansa asked, palming her belly. 

Arya shrugged. “Just like with Aemon, nothing too crazy, really…” 

Arya’s phone pinged. It was a text message from Jon. 

Jon: Your brothers know about Targaryen Baby # 2.   
Jon: Sandor too. He’s still hooting. Lol.   
Arya: Gods, how did Sansa text this out so fast? I’m sorry, they kind of guessed.   
Jon: I don’t mind it. I love knowing that you’re carrying my child--again.

Arya smiled at her phone. Jon always knew what to say to her. 

Jon: I like the world seeing that I put another child in you too. That’s probably just my underlying vanity. Lmao.  
Arya: You’re stupid.  
Jon: Also, it was Marg who texted Robb. I guess she said it was time for them to try for a second one now too--they’re getting left behind and he’s the oldest.  
Jon: I’m telling you--that man got us all out of the parking lot so fast. Lol. We’re on the way to Dad’s to get my car. Meet you home soon?  
Arya: I think Marg and Sansa wanted to have the children play a little longer.  
Jon: -__-  
Arya: Targaryen, you had me twice this morning alone.  
Jon: Once. Don’t cheat me out. 

Arya laughed out loud. 

Sansa coyly offered to drop Aemon off later in the evening so Arya and Jon could have some moments alone as much as possible before their next child arrives.   
  
“Soon, you’ll have two children under three and finding time to make love will be harder than it is. I should know, I told you--Sandor and I took some time to find our rhythm back.” 

Sansa said the same thing when Arya bore her next child. 

And the next. 

And the final one--the only girl of her brood, a beautiful princess that they named Lyarra. 

Sansa couldn’t be more wrong about each one. 

While Jon and Arya remained attentive parents, they were open to accepting employ to keep the fire burning in the bedroom. In the many years after their marriage, even with children grown and moved out--their desire for each other didn’t wane significantly. 

Whether or not Jon Targaryen was awake. 

**END**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> In Honor of my friend, Emilie, who finally convinced me to create an account here so I could share my stories.  
> Happy Birthday, Em. You might think that your gesture of encouragement was effortless, but it meant so much to me, because writing here has eased my COVID-19 depression greatly. Thank you for encouraging me to post, it gave me a positive creative outlet.
> 
> This one shot is dedicated to you. I hope you're doing well, wherever you are!
> 
> This is also dedicated to one of the most encouraging, kindest, commenters ever: JSkitn.
> 
> I sincerely appreciate you for the time that you put into commenting on all the Jonrya works that are published here--you are so appreciated! You take the time to really dissect a piece and have helpful insights. 
> 
> Here's a gift to appeal that you make an account too!
> 
> PS: Now accepting, prompt requests!
> 
> Love Always,
> 
> Meesh.


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